


Murdoc + Needle

by CatWingsAthena



Series: The Wintergreen ‘Verse [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: A lot more than the last one, Alpha Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), Alpha Matty Webber, Alpha Murdoc (MacGyver TV 2016), Alpha Samantha Cage (MacGyver TV 2016), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Riley Davis, Beta Wilt Bozer (MacGyver TV 2016), Break-it fic?, But it never gets remotely graphic, Episode: s02e04 X-Ray + Penny, Gen, Good Friend Wilt Bozer (MacGyver TV 2016), Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Needles, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Parental Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), What's the opposite of fix-it fic, Where you make it worse, that's what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 21:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatWingsAthena/pseuds/CatWingsAthena
Summary: When Mac disappears from his home, with signs pointing to Murdoc, the team are desperate to find him.As the days go by, his return seems less and less likely.When he finally does get back, it's not going to be as simple as they'd hoped.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton & Matilda "Matty" Webber (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) & Riley Davis, Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Samantha Cage (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: The Wintergreen ‘Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540099
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	Murdoc + Needle

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello friends! Y'all asked for dark, creepy, evil Murdoc and I think I delivered :) although Murdoc doesn't actually show up in this, sorry... I just couldn't write those scenes. Instead, you get the aftermath. Hope that satisfies.
> 
> Please, be warned that this is a lot darker than what I usually post, and contains numerous references to sexual assault, needles, non-consensual drug use, gun violence, blood, death, date rape drugs, torture, emotional manipulation, and the possibility (not realized) of permanent incapacitation.
> 
> Also, thanks to the people who encouraged me to write this! You know who you are. I love you guys so much <3
> 
> I hope you like this!

**Day 1**

Mac walked through the door of the house he shared with Bozer, dropped his bags, and started towards the kitchen, phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear.

“Hey Jack, me again,” he said, closing the door. “Message number five. You were right. About everything. The professor was a dead end.” He stopped short as he stepped into a puddle of water emanating from the refrigerator. “Uh, yeah, just call me back.” He made his way over to the fridge, where a note was taped up.

_ I fixed the fridge! - B _

Mac laughed. “Almost, Boze. Almost.”

He pulled out his phone again, sighed, and dialed Jack, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down on the table. After the answering machine message was through, he spoke, pulling the fridge out from the wall as he did so. “Message number six, and yes, I know you’re putting me straight to voicemail. Looks like I’m gonna be home for a while fixing the fridge, so if you wanna stop by, I’ve got an apology and some warm beer with your name on it.” He hung up and started to go around to the back of the fridge.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Mac didn’t think about it. He just went over, wiped his feet on the rug, and opened the door.

He just had time to process three figures wearing black clothing and exceedingly creepy masks before one of them jabbed him with a taser.

As Mac’s muscles seized up, he felt a moment of that odd disconnection he always experienced when he was losing a fight, or being tortured (really, it was a little sad that he knew so well how he reacted to that kind of thing). Time seemed to slow down.

Normally, it helped him plan his next move. Now, it only made the shock seem to stretch out into forever.

Eventually, Mac’s legs gave out and he crashed to the floor.

He stared upward, trying frantically to gather some kind of information about who these people were, what they wanted.

One of the masked figures stood next to him, then crouched down. Mac recognized the scent an instant before the figure took off his mask.

_ Murdoc. _

...

“Okay, okay, you had me at ‘warm beer,’” said Jack, walking into the house. “Now, about your apology...”

He stopped short at the scent he caught wafting up from the rug in the entryway. Faint but detectable.

Mac, terrified.

“Mac?” he called, senses on high alert. “Mac?”

Immediately, he started sweeping the house.

When he got upstairs, he stopped short.

Bozer’s George Washington mask, next to a wine bottle with Mac’s Swiss army knife sticking out of the cork.

_ Shit. _

Jack grabbed his phone and called Matty.

This was  _ bad. _

...

Matty strode into the house with purpose, followed by the Phoenix’s crime scene analysts. “Bag, tag, and photograph everything. Until we know exactly what happened here and who we’re dealing with, nothing is to be overlooked.”

She walked into the living room, where Bozer, Riley, Cage, and Jack were assembled. Jack was seated on the fireplace ledge, Riley and Bozer were standing near Jack, and Cage was inspecting some books.

Bozer was looking shell-shocked. “I mean, just the thought of him in this house again...”

“Do you really think he has Mac?” asked Riley. She turned to Jack. “What about that guy you grabbed in Paris?” Something in her voice was close to desperate hope.

Jack appeared close to tears. “Naw, that guy’s sucking soup through a straw in a dark hole somewhere, thanks to an old buddy of mine at the French Ministry of Defense. No, my... my Spidey senses are all telling me the same thing. It’s Murdoc.”

Matty pushed her Alpha protective instinct down far enough to stay calm, while letting it stay close enough to the surface to bring out the snap in her voice she’d learned brought near instant compliance. “Pull up every traffic camera in the area. I want eyes on every vehicle in the past ten hours.”

Riley sat down and started working.

Jack put his head in his hands.

“No offence to your Spidey senses, Jack,” said Cage, “but it’s not like this Murdoc signed his name on the wall.”

Matty recognized Cage’s strategy—testing how sure Jack really was, whether he truly believed what he was saying or whether he was just grasping at any lead. Still, in the moment, it irked her.

“He might as well have,” said Jack, standing up. “A pocket knife sticking out of a wine bottle, and a mask. That’s Mac’s little red knife out there stuck in the same wine bottle he used to blast Murdoc out that back window, next to the same geriatric mask he was wearing the first time he attacked us!”

“I really need to throw that thing away,” muttered Bozer.

“Yes, please do,” said Jack. “Riley. Riley, can you find anything?”

“I’m working as fast as I can, Jack.”

“Come on, just, just a little bit faster, please, please?” Jack sat back down and put his face in his hands again.

Matty saw where this was going. She knew Mac and Jack had argued in Paris, and that Jack was no doubt blaming himself for not having been there when Mac was taken. If she didn’t get Jack’s head back in the game now, they could lose their best shot at getting Mac back.

“Hey,” she said firmly, walking up to Jack. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“Then whose was it?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Not yours.”

Jack sighed. “I just... you heard how Murdoc was talking to Mac, back on that horrible op when Mac had to impersonate him. You saw how he looked at him. Hell, back in the junkyard. You weren’t there, but... he wasn’t shooting to kill. And I have no doubt he’ll kill him eventually. But I also have no doubt that that’s not all he wants.”

Matty looked Jack in the eye. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but if that’s true, Murdoc’s more likely to keep Mac alive until we can find him.”

Something burned in Jack’s eyes. “If...”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence in front of your boss if I were you.”

...

As soon as they entered the warehouse, they smelled it.

Riley’s DMV search on the vehicles leaving the neighborhood around the time Mac was taken had turned up one car with a plate that wouldn’t be issued for another six months. That had led Jack, Cage, and a very insistent Bozer to this warehouse, heavy with the smell of blood and fear.

Jack started inspecting the bodies as Cage cleared the rest of the warehouse. There were two men, Betas both, each dead of two gunshots to the back of the head. “Ooh, yeah, this is doornail dead right here,” he said as Cage came running up, having finished clearing the place. “Double tap, right to the back. You see that, Bozer?”

“I see it, Jack,” said Bozer, who looked faintly sick.

“Same here,” said Cage. “This was an execution.”

“The only way three people can keep a secret is if two of them are dead,” said Bozer.

Jack, meanwhile, made his way over to a puddle of a dark, greasy substance on the ground and sniffed the air above it. “Yeah, it looks like the getaway vehicle had quite the oil leak. Y’know, I’m guessing once Murdoc offed all the, uh, nonessential personnel, he split and he took our boy with him.”

“So how do we find him now?” asked Bozer.

“That’s up to Riley,” said Jack. He picked up the phone. “Yeah, Riles, I need you to track all the cars that came out of this warehouse since the car that took Mac pulled up, see if there’s anything fishy about any of ‘em... awesome.” He hung up.

“Jack...” said Cage gently. “You know she’s not gonna find anything. Murdoc’s too smart for that.”

“Yeah, well, we have to try.”

...

“I’m sorry,” said Riley, blinking hard, “I couldn’t find anything unusual about any of the traffic near the warehouse.”

Jack took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault, okay?”

“I’ve got a shoden map running, searching for Mac’s face,” said Riley. “If he shows up anywhere, we’ll know.”

“If anyone can find a way to save themselves, it’s Mac,” said Cage.

Jack nodded. “But he shouldn’t have to.”

...

**Day 2**

“Any hits on your fancy map thing?”

“If there were, I’d have told you!” Riley snapped.

Jack sighed, running a hand over his head. “I know, it’s just...”

“I know.”

...

**Day 3**

“Maybe it’s time to think about organizing a grid search. I know people I could call in...”

“Jack, you cannot possibly expect anyone to search the whole of LA—”

“Then I’ll search it myself if I have to—”

“Even if that were feasible, we don’t even know that Mac is still  _ in _ LA. Murdoc could have taken him anywhere.” Matty paused. “Have you slept since Mac went missing?”

“Has Mac?”

Matty sighed. “Get some sleep. That’s an order.”

...

**Day 4**

Cage was on her way from the bathroom to the War Room when she heard a noise coming from a room off the hallway.

A sob.

Carefully, she knocked on the door.

When there was no response, she pushed it open.

It was Bozer, crying in short, jagged inhalations, with tears and snot streaming down his face. He had some paper towels clutched in his hand, but didn’t appear to be using them.

When he saw her, he looked up, wiped his face briefly, and continued crying. Cage recognized that kind of crying. It was the kind the crier literally couldn’t stop.

Slowly, she walked across the room and sat down next to him.

She started taking slow, deep breaths. Bozer tried to copy her breathing. He didn’t succeed much at first, breath still coming in jerky gasps, but eventually it slowed and matched to hers.

“Thanks,” said Bozer softly.

“You’re welcome,” Cage said.

There was a long pause.

Then:

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” A fresh round of tears filled Bozer’s eyes. “Mac’s the smartest person I know. If he was still alive, he’d have found a way to escape by now. So he’s got to be dead.”

“There’s another possibility,” said Cage, not wanting to give Bozer false hope, but thinking the hope in this case might not be false. “He could be incapacitated in some way.”

“God, what if it’s permanent?” asked Bozer. “I mean, I’d be glad to get Mac back no matter what, but he values what he does so much... if he couldn’t do that any more, I don’t know what it’d do to him.” He sighed. “But still. I hope so. I mean, I really hope that, if he is incapacitated, it’s temporary, but... I just want him to come home.”

“I know,” said Cage. “And I know I don’t know Mac nearly as well as any of you, but I’ve seen enough to know that he’s very dear to all of you, and with good reason. And I want you to know that if there is anything, anything at all, that I can do to bring him home, I will do it.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

...

**Day 5**

Jack and Riley were asleep in chairs in a room off one of the Phoenix hallways when Riley’s computer pinged.

They both instantly sprang awake. Jack texted Bozer, Cage and Matty, while Riley started typing. “Looks like he just came out of a sewer tunnel. Sending the address so your phones now.”

They watched on the screen as Mac collapsed on the pavement, then slowly pulled himself up to sitting. He shook his head frantically, then held out his hand.

Someone placed a phone in it.

A moment later, Jack’s phone rang.

“Hey,” said Jack, trying not to let any of the emotions he was feeling through in his tone. Holy  _ crap, _ Mac was in bad shape. Which was exactly why he needed to sound reassuring.

“Jack...” said the voice on the other end. It sounded like Mac was talking past broken glass.

“Right here, kiddo.”

“Jack, I...”

“I know, I know. Riley’s magic computer thingy’s got eyes on you, okay? We’re coming to get you, you just gotta sit tight.”

“Jack, don’t come get me.”

_ What? _

“I mean... send Bozer. Or Riley. Not you.”

If the request had just been for Bozer, Jack would’ve understood. Bozer was Mac’s oldest friend, after all. It was entirely possible that, in this state, Mac was defaulting to what he’d known longest.

But why Riley?

_ Oh shit. Oh hell no. _

There was one reason Jack could think of why Mac wouldn’t want him around, but would be okay with Bozer or Riley.

Jack knew drugs to induce heat existed. He didn’t know much about them, but he knew the history was  _ really _ sketchy and that they were now federally banned.

Didn’t mean there wasn’t a brisk black market trade for them, among unscrupulous people, for much the same reasons as the trade in drugs like Rohypnol existed.

Sometimes, Jack really hated being right.

“Okay, Mac, I’ve got Riley and Bozer on their way to pick you up right now. Then we’ll have to take you in to Phoenix medical to get you checked out, but then we’re gonna get you home, okay? That sound good?”

“Home...”

“Yeah, home.”

“The nice lady’s asking for her phone back.”

Jack gritted his teeth. “Does she need to leave?”

“I think she wants to talk to you.”

Jack pulled the phone away from his mouth. “Riles!” he called, and Riley stopped in the doorway. “Find out who I’m talking to,” he whispered. Then, he put the phone back against his face. “All right.”

On the screen, the phone was handed over to a dark-haired, medium-skinned woman in a skirt, blouse, and scarf.

“Hello?” Jack said.

“Hello,” said the woman. “My name is Tricia Lear. I work near here as a counselor. I was just on my way home, but the clinic’s a few blocks from here. Do you mind if I get your... who is he to you?”

“He’s my son,” said Jack. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

“In that case, do you mind if I get your son off the street?”

Riley looked up. “She’s legit.”

“Thank you,” said Jack. “That would be great. I’m sending his siblings to get him now. Fair warning, they’re all adopted, so they won’t look or smell alike, but... just watch them, you’ll know. I’d get him myself, but I adopted Mac as an older kid, and I’m an Alpha, so... he doesn’t want me around right now.”

“I understand perfectly.”

“May I talk to him again?”

“Of course.”

When the phone was passed back to Mac, Jack spoke immediately. “Son, it’s gonna be okay. Your brother and sister are on their way to get you, all right? You just sit tight at the clinic with Tricia until then.”

Mac sighed. “Okay. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, bud, I know you are. They’ll be there in 15 minutes. Just hold tight.”

“Okay.”

The line went dead.

Jack resisted the urge to throw his phone across the room. An image of Mac teasing him for breaking his own phone for once popped into his mind, and he had to blink away tears.

He called Riley. “Hey, are you in the car yet?”

“Nope, still on our way. Why?”

“If it won’t add much time, grab a blanket and a bottle of water. I’m pretty sure Murdoc used a pyretic on Mac.”

Jack heard Riley take a deep breath. “Okay. Will do. On my way.” She hung up.

Jack was proud of her.

And scared as hell for his other kid.

...

In the car on the way to get Mac, Jack’s words echoed in Riley’s brain.

_ I’m pretty sure Murdoc used a pyretic on Mac. _

For Mac to be in heat, surrounded by strangers, no doubt seriously traumatized...

Riley had a bit of a lead foot at the best of times—Jack had helped teach her how to drive, after all—but now, she was fighting the instinct to floor it. Getting into a chase with police wouldn’t help Mac.

When they finally arrived at the clinic, they found Mac lying down on a couch in Tricia’s office, wrapped in a blanket.

They didn’t have to get that close before the smell hit.

Mac, yes— _ scared _ Mac, specifically—but also Murdoc, and...

_ No, no, no. _ Riley felt her stomach turn. She couldn’t let her reaction show, though.

Mac needed her to be calm.

“Hey, Mac,” she said. “It’s gonna be okay, we’re here.”

Bozer went over to Mac and sat down on the couch next to him.

Mac sat up and promptly buried his face in Bozer’s shirt.

“You two have it from here?” Tricia turned to Mac. “Are these your siblings?”

Mac looked up and nodded, then reburied his face in Bozer’s shoulder.

Riley wrapped the blanket from the car around Mac’s shoulders and helped Bozer get him standing up. From there, Mac half-wobbled, half-leaned on Riley and Bozer to get to the car.

...

Once in the car, Bozer watched Mac laid down in the backseat, pulling the blanket over himself.

Normally, he might have egged Mac to put on a seatbelt, possibly with a crack about Riley’s driving, but now really wasn’t the time.

“Are you thirsty?” asked Bozer, holding up the bottle of water they’d brought as Riley drove.

Mac nodded and reached for it.

Bozer handed over the water bottle. “How much water did Murdoc give you?”

“He didn’t,” said Mac eventually. “He fed me, a little, but he kept me hydrated through an IV.” Mac pulled up his sleeve to reveal a large, florid bruise blossoming in the crook of his arm.

Bozer was careful not to visibly react to that news, although he was definitely freaking out inside. “Little sips, then.”

Mac complied.

After taking small sips for a few minutes, he started drinking quickly, and soon the bottle was empty.

“So you’re taking me to Phoenix medical?” asked Mac.

“Yes,” said Riley. “We need to get you checked out, make sure nothing’s life-threatening. Then we can get you home.”

“And I need to help you find Murdoc,” said Mac, starting to push himself upright.

“Slow down,” said Bozer. “You need to get home and rest. Not relive all that.” He knew perfectly well what had happened. It was kind of hard not to. It wasn’t just the smell. It made him sick to think about, but, assuming Murdoc had dosed Mac with the pyretic right at the beginning, it made no sense for Mac to be as functional as he was right now. Normally, by the fifth day of his heat Mac was barely talking. The last time Bozer had seen this was... when Mac was with Nikki.

“I need to make sure Murdoc doesn’t get away!” said Mac sharply. “If he does...” He flopped back down.

“Okay,” said Riley. “Okay, it’s up to you.”

...

Jack was waiting in the War Room, pacing back and forth, when the call came in to his phone.

“It’s Sandra from Medical,” said the voice on the other end. “Agent MacGyver asked for you.”

“On my way,” said Jack, already walking out the door.

Riley and Bozer, who Mac had asked to leave him alone in Medical, followed him with their eyes.

When he arrived in Medical, Jack saw Mac sitting on an exam table, wearing a cloth hospital gown. His cheeks were fever-flushed, but the rest of him looked deathly pale. His hair was sticking to his scalp from grease and sweat, and he smelled like heat and layers on layers of fear. Under that...

Jack pulled out the bottle of wintergreen oil and dabbed it under his nose. Not so much to block his body’s reaction to the scent of heat—which, thank God, he was way too freaked out to even feel—as to keep himself from having to breath in the evidence of his failure to protect Mac.

Jack wanted to wrap Mac up in a hug, fervently apologize for having failed him, and promise to never let anyone hurt him again. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how Mac would react to being touched, he knew he couldn’t make this about him, and that was a promise he couldn’t keep. Instead, he handed the bottle of wintergreen oil to Mac, who took it and put more under his nose than he usually did. Jack really couldn’t blame him.

“Hey,” said Mac.

Jack used the trick he had far too much practice with of pushing down his grief and panic at the state Mac was in and letting only his gratitude and relief that he was alive and in one piece show on his face in a small smile. “Oh man, is it  _ good _ to see you.”

“You too,” said Mac, giving a tiny smile in return.

“What do you need?”

“They’re gonna draw my blood, and...” Mac looked down.

“Of course. I’m right here.”

Sandra examined the large bruises and multiple puncture marks on both of Mac’s arms. “Looks like your left cubital vein’s in the best shape, so I’ll use that one.”

Mac nodded.

Jack held out his hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Mac took it. “You can go ahead now,” he said to Sandra, shutting his eyes.

Mac squeezed Jack’s hand so hard it hurt. Jack could not have cared less.

The needle went in smoothly, and the blood started flowing immediately.

“Got it,” said Sandra. “I’ll tell you when it’s out.”

“Thank you,” said Mac, eyes still closed.

“Of course,” Sandra replied. “That’s it for the medical stuff. I’d like you to stay here under observation until we get the lab results back, but after that you should be clear to go home.”

“So,” said Mac cautiously, “I’m going to be here for a few hours no matter what?”

“Yes,” said Sandra. “We have blankets, and we can put you in a room with low light if that would make you more comfortable.”

Mac sighed. “Get Cage down here.”

...

When Cage arrived, along with Riley, Jack passed her the bottle of wintergreen, and she promptly dabbed it under her nose.

“Mac, you don’t have to do this,” Jack was saying. “You can wait until you’re feeling better. I mean, Murdoc’s probably already split by now.”

“No, Mac’s right,” said Cage. “Even discounting the fact that what we find may be time-sensitive, there’s another factor. Godden and Baddeley, 1975. People remember more when the state they’re in when asked to recall information matches the state they were in when they learned it. Mac, you’ll remember more details if I take you through this exercise now, while you’re still in heat, than you would if I took you through it after it had subsided.”

Mac looked at Jack, then at Sandra. “Would you mind not being here for this?”

“Okay,” said Jack. “But if you need me, you holler, all right? I’m not going anywhere.”

Mac managed a small smile.

“Tell me when I can come back in,” said Sandra, and Cage nodded.

Sandra and Jack left.

Riley sat down in the corner of the room and opened her computer.

“All right,” said Cage. “We’re going to play a little memory game. It’s a game Rudyard Kipling wrote about. It’s called the Jewel Game. Now everyone calls it—”

“KIM,” said Mac. “Keep In Memory. We learned it in EOD training.”

“Good,” said Cage. “Now, whenever you’re ready, you can close your eyes, and put yourself back in the place Murdoc took you, at the moment you first realized you could escape. Don’t worry about anything before that. Here’s the catch: you don’t name what you see, but rather, you describe everything around you.”

Mac took a deep breath in and out, then closed his eyes, rocking backward and forward slightly. “All right,” he said tentatively, “I’m—I’m sitting in a chair...”

“Okay,” said Cage, “just remember simpler.” Ordinarily, Cage would have used physical contact to ground the participant, but she didn’t know how Mac would react to being touched right now, especially by an Alpha, so she kept her distance. “Just the visceral. You can describe colors, shapes, textures, sounds, smells...”

“It’s damp,” said Mac. “Smells like... mold... burnt motor oil... bleach... and...” Mac’s eyes flew open, and he gasped, jolting backwards.

“It’s okay,” said Cage. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s vivid recall. It’s really common. You can stop if you need to.”

“No,” said Mac. “I need to do this.”

“Okay,” said Cage. “In that case, whenever you’re ready, if you can go back...”

Mac rolled his head around and shut his eyes again.

“I’m sitting on metal,” said Mac. “It’s cold. It’s rough in spots, it’s jagged. It’s old. All around me are flat, rough, grey rectangles. There’s a bigger rectangle in the corner of the room, with a diamond pattern on it. There are hard, smooth bands cutting into my wrists, and a... there’s a pain in my right arm, just below the elbow. It’s... it’s something I can use.”

He paused, taking a breath.

“There’s... there’s the sound of metal, it’s... it’s jingling. There’s a strip of wood around a grey metal rectangle. I can feel cold air seeping in from the other side. It’s a way out.”

“Mmm-hmm,” said Cage.

“I’m... I’m on a path now, it’s... cylindrical. It smells like rusty metal, stagnant water, and motor oil... I can hear splashing, it’s wet, it’s... it’s water, it’s... moving with me.” Mac held out his hands in a direction-indicating gesture. “And after about... 20 minutes, I heard... I heard something. It was like, uh, b-bells. Ch-church bells.”

Cage looked at Riley, who pulled up a map of churches in the area.

“But it wasn’t just church bells,” Mac continued. “It was something else, it was another sound. Right after the church bells started, there was a second sound, it was harsher. Second sound, it was, uh, air raid siren?” Mac paused. “Fire station.”

Mac smiled slightly. “Means I know how to figure out where I was.”

...

As Riley watched Mac scribble out formulas on the paper cover of the exam table he had recently been sitting on, she felt a tiny bit better.

Mac was looking more  _ Mac- _ like than he had since they’d gotten him back.

Still, she recognized how awful he was clearly feeling. He was muttering to himself, saying everything he was doing out loud. He  _ never _ needed to do that, especially when he had a surface to write on. And once, she saw him cross something out and start over.

Still, eventually, he announced his answer.

“I’ve got two tunnels that meet your criteria,” Riley said, “But only one where the water is flowing toward your exit point.”

“Let’s go get him,” said Jack. He looked at Mac. “Not you. You rest. And I’m assuming you don’t want me around, but if I’m wrong about that, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” said Mac. “You go. Make sure... make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Kiddo, I’m in this to make sure he never hurts  _ you _ again.”

Mac nodded. “Just go.”

...

When Jack walked down the stairs to the underground room, the smell hit him so hard that, if he hadn’t been acclimatized to all sorts of horrible smells from his long military service, he might have thrown up.

If he stayed here too long, he just might anyway. Not because of the scent itself, but because of the story it told.

The scents of Mac and Murdoc were heavy in the air. Mac in heat and terrified, having gone five days in the same small room without having the opportunity to wash.

Murdoc  _ excited. _

There was a metal chair against one wall. It smelled primarily of Mac.  _ For Mac to have spent all that time cuffed to that chair... _

In the corner of the room was a dingy-looking mattress. Emanating from  _ that... _ Jack really didn’t want to think about it.

Wasn’t like he had much choice, though.

Jack wanted to leave as quickly as he could. Let someone else search this place. Someone who didn’t love the kid who’d been kept prisoner here. But that love kept him looking. If he could find a clue here, anything,  _ anything _ that might help him find Murdoc and keep Mac safe...

“Jack!” called Matty.

Jack came up the stairs and walked out to the middle of the warehouse.

The words  _ UNTIL NEXT TIME _ were written in dark red letters on the wall.

“Tear this place apart,” Matty snarled.

...

When Bozer, Jack, Cage, Matty, and Riley got back to the Phoenix, having found nothing whatsoever of use at the warehouse, the lab results were in.

Bozer, Jack and Riley sat with Mac in the room he’d been moved to, where he was lying in a bed, covered in blankets. Riley was on her computer. The nurse—Sandra again—was standing.

“Is it all right if I discuss your health in front of these people?”

“Yes.”

Sandra held up her clipboard and addressed Mac. “We found traces in your blood of a pyretic, or heat-inducing drug, called alemoran, better known by its trade name, Pyran. That’s worrisome, because Pyran was banned for a reason—in some cases, the heats it induces can produce fevers high enough to be dangerous.” She paused. “I’m going to ask you some questions.” She turned to Jack, Riley and Bozer. “And I’m going to ask you three to leave the room.”

They did.

“Okay,” said Jack, out in the hallway, “Ri, what is this Pyran stuff?”

Riley had her computer out and was typing. “So, interstatus people have always existed. In this case, we’re talking about people who smell like Omegas but don’t go into heat. There’s historically been a ton of prejudice against them, and in the 80’s, a class of drugs were developed to induce heat in Omegas and, more specifically, Omega-adjacent people, to try to, quote-unquote, “fix” them.”

“Okay, okay,” said Jack. “Enough with the history lesson, the point is?”

“Pyran was one of those,” Riley continued. “Pyran specifically went on the market in 1991 and was taken off in 1995, because the heats it induced were so... intense. To the point where a few people’s brains basically cooked. In 1996, pyretics were made illegal nationwide, but, it is very easy to find them if you know where to look.”

“Of course it is,” muttered Jack.

“Heats induced by Pyran are like any other heat in that,” Riley swallowed, “the symptoms are temporarily relieved by sexual activity.” Her voice was strained but steady. “Short of that, the best treatments are antipyretics such as Advil and Tylenol, and waiting it out. And, of course, heat blockers are useless once symptoms begin.”

Just then, Sandra came out into the hall. “You can come back in now, if you like.”

Mac was looking down at his hands, which were fidgeting with a blanket. 

“Based on what you said, I don’t believe you’re in danger of spiking an unreasonable fever, so long as you continue to take acetaminophen and ibuprofen on a rotating schedule as directed,” said Sandra to Mac. “If you do spike a fever higher than 102, despite taking the medicine as directed, call. If it’s higher than 103, just come in. Besides the drug scan, everything looks good. We’ll want you back for a follow-up test in a week, just to be sure we caught everything, but from what we can tell now, what you need is food, water, sunlight, rest, and time.”

Mac smiled a little. “Sounds good to me.”

...

Mac sat in the car on the way home, Bozer in the driver’s seat next to him, and tried not to get too lost in his head.

The cool window glass against his face. The warm blanket he was wrapped in.

Bozer’s occasional glances over at him, like he was afraid he’d look over and find the seat empty. Something in his eyes like pity.

Mac knew perfectly well that everyone knew, and he hated it. In Phoenix medical with Sandra, he’d had to report exactly when it had happened, so she could work out whether the fact that he hadn’t spiked a serious fever yet was evidence he wouldn’t, or just a result of having the symptoms suppressed. He appreciated that she’d asked his friends to leave for that part, but really, there hadn’t been much point. He’d seen it in all of their faces as soon as they’d smelled him.

(Speaking of which, the first thing he was doing when he got home was taking a damn shower.)

It could be worse, he supposed. They knew part of what had happened, but they didn’t know all of it. They didn’t know the worst part.

They brought their own assumptions, and it happened that those assumptions were at least partly wrong.

When Bozer pulled into the driveway, Mac slowly pulled himself up and out of the car.

When he got into the entryway, he took a breath and forced himself to keep going.

Not to remember the masks, the taser, the hand on his face.

“Why don’t you head upstairs and get set up?” Bozer suggested. “Here’s your phone, you can text if you need anything.”

Mac went upstairs, showered, went to his room, grabbed his blankets, and set about making himself a comfortable nest.

Then, out of habit, he checked his phone.

In addition to the calls and texts from Jack, there were two messages from a blocked number.

Mac froze.

Cautiously, he clicked.

<Scurry home, little mouse>

<Do they know what you did?>

Mac felt his stomach roll.

He knew he should try to get someone to trace the texts. But they’d been sent hours ago. Murdoc was almost certainly long gone from that location anyway. And besides... that would entail  _ showing _ them to someone.

Mac deleted the texts, curled up under his blankets, and cried.

...

**Day 6**

Tentatively, Bozer knocked on the door of Mac’s room.

“Mac?” he called. “It’s time for your Tylenol.”

No response.

Bozer knocked again, louder. “Mac?”

Still nothing.

Slowly, Bozer pushed the door open.

Mac was tangled up in the blankets, thrashing around, making tiny whimpering noises. “No,” he muttered. “No, I don’t, I don’t...”

“Mac,” said Bozer, a little louder.

No response.

_ Okay, this calls for desperate measures. _

Bozer went into his room, found the shirt he’d slept in the night before, went back to Mac’s room, and held the shirt in front of Mac’s face. “You smell that, roomie? It’s me. I’m right here.”

After a moment, Mac opened his eyes. “Boze?”

“Yep.”

“S’rry bout that,” Mac slurred.

“Hey, no problem. Just gotta take your meds, keep that fever down, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

“I gotta take your temperature first, before you put cold water in your mouth. Put that under your tongue and hold it there until it beeps,” Bozer instructed.

Mac did as he was told, and after a minute, the thermometer beeped. Bozer read off the number. “101.4. I mean, that can’t feel good, but it’s within reason.” Bozer shook two Tylenol out of the bottle and held out the pills and a glass of water. “Here.”

Mac swallowed the pills, drained the glass, and handed it back to Bozer.

“Okay, I’m going to leave you to get some rest now, unless you want me to stay.”

Mac shook his head, then held the shirt tighter against himself.

Bozer smiled slightly. “Yeah, you can keep the shirt.”

...

**Day 7**

When the alarm Bozer had set to remind him to give Mac his meds went off, waking him from sleep, he grabbed the thermometer, the pill bottle, and a glass of water and went to Mac’s room.

He knocked on the door. “Mac?”

Nothing.

After repeating that exercise, he opened the door to find Mac’s bed empty.

Bozer started to panic before he saw the note on the bed.

_ Downstairs. - Mac _

“What are you doing downstairs?” he muttered. “It’s four in the morning.”

Bozer knew that, on the last day of his heat, Mac tended to feel sufficiently better to start working on the various projects he had scattered around the house. Maybe... oh.

Bozer went down to the kitchen, and was entirely unsurprised to see Mac standing behind the fridge with a roll of duct tape in hand, doing  _ something _ to the aforementioned appliance.

While Mac had been missing, Bozer had done the bare minimum he needed to do to keep the house in semi-okay shape—cleaned up the puddle of water—but nothing else. There were probably a host of semi-rotten food items in there. Bozer hadn’t wanted to remove the most perishable foods, partly because he knew the rest would stay good longer if he kept the door closed, and partly out of wishful thinking that Mac wouldn’t be gone that long. Once it became clear that Mac was, in fact, going to be gone that long, doing anything about the fridge felt like acknowledging that he was gone. So Bozer just... hadn’t.

Once Mac got back, Bozer had known that he’d want to fix the fridge himself, so he’d left it.

And now, here he was, in the kitchen, doing exactly that.

“What are you doing up?” Bozer asked, and Mac startled. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Mac. “I’m fixing the fridge.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” said Bozer. “Any particular reason you’re doing that at four AM?”

Mac sighed. “I haven’t been on my feet for more than a few minutes at a time for a week. Let me have this.”

“I’m not saying you can’t,” said Bozer. “By all means, keep going. But it’s time for your meds.”

“Can I do that myself today?” Mac looked at him with a  _ come on, I’m a grown adult _ expression.

“Sure, if you promise to take your temperature beforehand and write it down somewhere, with the time. And no fudging the numbers or making it up.”

“I promise.”

...

**Day 8**

Mac was sitting at the kitchen table with Bozer, both of them eating some soup Bozer had made, when he heard a very familiar knock at the door.

Immediately, Bozer got up and started toward the door. Mac pushed down a moment of anxiety. That was Jack’s knock. It was fine.

“Hey, Jack,” said Bozer as he opened the door. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in with Mac,” said Jack. “And I have some news.”

“What’s that?”

Jack sat down at the table with Mac and Bozer, and looked at Mac. “So, you know we used up our personal time looking for your dad. But, in light of the current circumstances, Matty’s agreed to give me a one-week advance on my future personal time so I can stay with you for the first week of your mandatory psychological leave.”

Mac opened his mouth to say something, but Jack cut him off. “You did know about that, right? You’re on mandatory psychological leave until such a time as the Phoenix psychologist declares you fit for duty. You’ll probably start with light duty—paperwork, maybe R ‘n’ D—before they let you go back to the field. But that’s still a ways off. Right now you need to focus on getting better—and I’m gonna be right there with you, ‘kay?”

Mac’s face crumpled. He looked like he was about to cry.

“Um, I need to go get some groceries,” said Bozer. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

He stood up and left the room.

Once he was out of the house, Mac looked at Jack. “You don’t have to do that.”

“First, looking out for you is kind of in my job description, and second, I  _ want _ to. Mac...” Jack trailed off. “When you were missing, I thought,  _ he’s gotta be out there. He’s gotta be. _ Not just ‘cause you’re the smartest guy I know and I knew you’d find a way to get yourself home no matter what...”

Mac flinched like he’d been hit.

Jack’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

There was a long silence.

Jack knew that, if he spoke up, Mac might lose his nerve and never say whatever it was he was trying to say. So he didn’t.

Finally, Mac spoke.

“You think you know what happened,” he said, staring at the table. His fingers were fidgeting with a twist tie he’d probably found behind the fridge. “And you know some of it. But not all of it. And... before you decide you want to stay with me... you should know all of it.”

Jack couldn’t bite his tongue at that. “Mac,” he said. “Go ahead and tell me. But I need you to know that there is nothing that could have happened— _ nothing, _ okay?—that would make me think less of you.”

Slowly, Mac nodded.

Then, he continued speaking.

“You think he forced me,” said Mac. “He didn’t. He just... he gave me the drug, and then... left. He would come back every so often, to give me food, or-or water... saline, actually... through an IV, or... just to mess with me... he would tell me stories, weird stories, I don’t know if any of them were true... He would sit so close to me, so I could smell him, and...” Mac swallowed. “After a long time, he asked me... he asked me if I wanted...” Mac was resolutely staring at the twist tie in his hands, which he was shaping and reshaping into various amorphous blobs. “I told him he could go to hell. He didn’t come back for a long time, after that. I think it was a whole day. And he asked me again. Only this time, he wanted me to—to ask.”

Jack heard the word behind that word, but didn’t say anything.

Mac’s voice sounded  _ shattered. _ “Jack...” Tears started to run down his face.

Jack’s heart flew apart into a million tiny pieces.

He knew he had to handle this exactly right, or he would just hurt Mac even worse than he already was. “Oh, kiddo,” he said. “This wasn’t your fault, okay?”

“Did you hear a word of what I just said?” Mac sniffled.

“Yes,” said Jack. “I heard that Murdoc drugged you and then took advantage of you.”

“But I—”

“You were desperate and not in your right mind,” said Jack.

“I was in my right mind, though,” said Mac. “Because... it’s not like you think. I didn’t just give up.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you had, but go on,” said Jack.

“The whole time I was down there, I was trying to find a way out,” said Mac. “I looked at everything. But I couldn’t  _ think. _ And, eventually, I realized that the only way I was getting out of there was if I could get my head clear. And the only way to do  _ that _ was...” He took a deep, shaky breath, and, for the first time in this conversation, looked up at Jack. “I knew what I was doing.”

Jack sat back and tried to process that information. Finally, he spoke. “And you thought I’d be mad at you for that? For finding a way to get yourself home?” He shook his head. “I told you nothing that could have happened in there would make me think less of you. This isn’t even in that  _ ballpark.” _

“I should’ve been able to come up with something else, though!” Mac shouted. “And... I didn’t even find a way to get out. Murdoc let me go.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, after... after he did that, he gave me saline again, and then he left in a hurry. And he left the needle in my arm. He’d never done that. It let me pick the lock on my handcuffs and get away.” Mac was staring at the table again. “He got what he wanted from me and then he let me go.”

Jack wanted to say,  _ maybe it was just carelessness, _ but he knew better. Murdoc was never careless. If he was, they’d have him back in prison by now. “Well, you’re home now,” he said instead. “That’s the important part. And when we find Murdoc?” He’d wanted to say  _ when I find Murdoc, _ but thought that his Alpha side—even protectiveness—might not be what Mac needed at the moment. “We’re gonna kill him. Nice and slow. If that’s okay with you.”

Mac gave a tiny smile, but said nothing.

“So, you cool if I stay here with you and Bozer? Or, better yet, you could stay at my place? I’m not comfortable knowing that Murdoc knows you live here and is in the wind somewhere.”

“Trust me, I’m getting better security put in. And I’ll be more careful about answering the door. But I’m not leaving,” said Mac firmly. “This is my house and I won’t be driven out of it.”

Jack shook his head with a faint smile. “You are as stubborn as they come.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And it’s a good thing I’m almost as stubborn as you. If you’re staying, I’m staying. Just for this week, though I’ll be over when I can after that. And I promise you, no matter what the road looks like for you, I’m gonna be here for it so long as it’s within my power to be. Okay?”

Mac nodded. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! I hope you liked this! If you did, please let me know below! Best!


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